Empire Day ✓

Chapter 5 - Bureaucrats and Starpilots

It had been eight days now—eight days of nightmares when he slept, eight days of pain when he was awake, eight days of boredom. This med bay chamber trapped his yearning spirit, just as if he were imprisoned in a brig.

His father, whom he was required to call "Lord Vader" in public, spent a few hours with him daily. However, the Sith Lord had his own duties that kept him away for long hours at a time. 

Some days he would visit Luke, happy to see him. Other days, the man was in a foul mood. Vader would never tell Luke what was bothering him, but the boy could feel conflict burning within him.

After the second day of Vader's foul mood and even more equipment destroyed in his room, Luke challenged himself to make his father laugh. He had heard it once, just barely, on that first day. If his father could find the joy in life again, things could be better for them all. Maybe, one day, they could all go back to Tatooine and live on the farm.

The young boy longed to see his aunt, to have her hold him, to have her chase away his nightmares. He had woken himself up screaming her name the last few nights, only to find his father in his room. 

Tonight, Luke had woken himself up again. He was drenched in sweat and shaking. The hatch burst open, admitting his father. A medic followed him in.

"Lord Vader, there is no need to disturb yourself. The boy's just had a nightmare. It's the result of his head injury." The medic adjusted the intravenous drip in Luke's arm. He took out a hypodermic needle to add the sedative to the boy's drip bag.

"No, no sedatives. Is this what you've been giving the boy?" Vader grabbed the device and crushed it. "No wonder he's screaming every night. Have you not read his chart, doctor? You don't give sedatives to someone with that high of a midichlorian count. You're fortunate I haven't started training him yet, or he could have destroyed this entire sector."

"My lord, the boy must get his rest. We start Bacta treatments tomorrow. You know the risks if he loses consciousness in the tank."

Vader turned on the doctor and leaned over him. "Leave us. Now. And no more sedatives."

"Yes, Lord Vader." He exited immediately, leaving the crushed medical instruments on the floor.

Vader waved his hand, shutting the hatch with the Force. He sat on the edge of the bed with Luke.

The boy looked up at his hulking father. "You could feel my dream, couldn't you, Daddy?"

"Yes, Son. I feel everything. We are connected through the Force as well as blood." Vader smoothed Luke's sweaty hair. "Tomorrow, they are going to start a special treatment on you. I'll stay with you the whole time."

"What type of treatment?"

"You'll be in a tank of liquid for a few hours. You'll have an oxygen mask to help you breathe."

"Like yours?" Luke touched his father's helmet, running his fingers around the contours. The mask always fascinated him.

"No, smaller, and just over your mouth. The liquid is very special. It will heal your wounds. You should be entirely healed in a few days, now that the bones have knit in your arm." He rested his hand on Luke's left arm.

"Wish we had that bone knitter back at the homestead. Took weeks for my leg to heal a few years ago."

"How did you break your leg?"

"Scrambling down a rocky cliff, chasing a droid. Lost my grip and fell a few meters. Uncle Owen was close. Boy, he was sure angry." Luke smirked at his father. "Had to take me into Anchorhead for a healer. I cost him a lot of money that season, money we didn't have."

Vader hung his head. Luke could not read his facial expressions through his mask, but he could feel his father thinking. He felt his father's anger swell. 

"You are the son of royalty, and you were forced to live on Tatooine, as what, an indentured servant to your uncle, who couldn't even afford proper medical care?"

"Daddy, it's okay. I like it there."

"But don't you hate the sand?"

"Oh, sure, it's coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere. But Aunt Beru makes everything all right. And there's nothing like watching the sunset as the two suns paint the desert orange. It's beautiful."

Luke felt his father's longing for the sunsets. The boy could see the suns shining through their connection. 

"You're right. The Tatooine sunsets are beautiful. But is that all you want to do when you're older, stay on Tatooine and be a farmer?"

The boy looked up at the mask, his eyes crinkling with glee. "No, I want to fly, be a fighter pilot, or even a pod racer! Uncle Owen was going to take me to the pod races at Mos Espa on Empire Day, but then we had to go to that stupid census."

Vader shuddered. "There is no way you will race pods. Is that understood, Luke? It's too dangerous. Those pilots play for keeps."

"Yes, Daddy." Luke slumped in his bed with a pout. "But how about a fighter pilot?"

"Maybe." 

Luke's eyes lit up.

"I'll teach you."

"You can fly?"

"I will have you know I am the best starpilot in the galaxy, and I've even raced pods." Vader pulled himself to his fullest stature.

The boy's eyes widened at that boast. He could feel the pride in his father, the pleasure as he remembered his younger days. "Tell me a story, Daddy."

Vader breathed a few cycles and chuckled. "Once upon a time there was a little Togruta named Snips and her best friend named Skyguy, who was also the best starpilot in the galaxy."

Luke smiled when he heard his father laugh.

Did you know . . .

● Another Beauty and the Beast inspired scene.

 There's something sweet

And almost kind

But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined

But now he's dear, and so unsure

I wonder why I didn't see it there before.

Tell me what you think . . .

● Will Luke ever see Beru again?